Roy Mustang: Memoirs of a Fuher, or Colonel
by Vannessa Hillstead
Summary: Roy Mustang's rantings about life, laziness, certain short people, and how much he would like Riza to stop pointing her gun at him.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

O.O.O.O

**Monday**

**9 A.M.**

**My office**

I'm not lazy. Really.

Just because I'd go to any lengths to avoid doing work doesn't make me lazy.

Try telling that to Riza.

**9:02 A.M.**

Riza wouldn't believe that statement even if it came from the Fuhrer himself.

**9:03 A.M.**

Note to self: Become Fuhrer to prove to Riza that I am not lazy.

**9:04 A.M.**

Note to self: That comes right after the Miniskirt Act.

**9:05 A.M.**

Seriously.

**9:08 A.M.**

_"Sir, if you were ever to prove that you weren't lazy, maybe you should actually consider __doing__ the paperwork."_

Damn it. That woman knows everything.

**9:15 A.M.**

She also knows that the reason that I've been slacking off on my work is to write in this di--journal.

Yes. It is in fact, a journal to document my rise to Fuhrer.

Yes.

Let's go with that.

**9:21 A.M.**

Hey! I'm already First Lieutanant.

_"Sir, you should probably stop talking out loud. Someone may get the wrong idea."_

What? It only sounds like I'm about to murder the Fuhrer, betray the country, and take over the country.

I'm harmless, really.

_"Sir.."_

Damn her and her ability to hear through walls.

_"I've been standing here for the past five minutes."_

Right.

_"..."_

**9:45 A.M.**

I finally managed to convince her that I would fill out a couple of forms so that she would leave my office for a few minutes. I swear that that woman is scary--she shouldn't be brandishing a gun at all hours of the day; she's bound to scare some innocent passer by sooner or later.

**9:46 A.M.**

Scratch that, she already has.

There was one time...

Shudder.

I don't believe that I should bring _that_ up.

I have...work to do.

**9:47 A.M.**

Blasted notebook.

Oh yes, where was I?

Right. Ranting about Riza.

I think that she's scared half the people there with her gun--half the new people we received one year threatened to quit, just because someone had gotten a little smart with her, and she had fired her gun.

I believe he said something along the lines of, "Why do you carry that around? What use is it if you're a girl, and can't shoot?"

Poor guy.

**9:59 A.M.**

Twelve straight minutes.

I have spent _twelve _straight minutes filling out some rather _interesting _paperwork.

Seriously.

Who decided that we would send state alchemists on that kind of ridiculous mission?

The Military doesn't go around chasing people who claim that they saw their neighboors attempt to bring someone back from the dead.

I mean, _really._

I pity the poor soul that has to go on this _mission._

...Is that my name?

**10:01 A.M.**

Am still in denial that I have to chase down some kid.

**10:02 A.M.**

Still am.

**10:03 A.M.**

Now too.

**10:04 A.M.**

According to this report, some kid named Edward Elric attempted some rather complex alchemy and attempted to bring his mother back to life. It also says that he bound his brother's soul to a suit of armour.

...How old is this kid?

**10:15 A.M.**

Have just found out that he's not even a teenager.

Kids these days.

**10:16 A.M.**

Have also found out that I have to meet him.

Joy.

What am I supposed to say?

_"Hi, I'm Roy Mustang. I'm a state alchemist--most people hate me. We would like to recruit you in a few years. It'll be great! Be hated by half the world, and controlled by the military--you'll never think for yourself again. It'll be fun."_

Scratch that.

I need to work on my speeches.

**2:30 P.M.**

**Being driven to Risenbool.**

Apparently this was urgent. That's why I am currently being driven to the town of Risenbool. I would take a train, but apparently it was _urgent._

Apparently having common sense isn't necessary in the higher ranks.

_"Sir, your mumbling is starting to scare me."_

.I'm not scary.

**8:30 P.M.**

**Risenbool**

What brilliant mind possibly thought that taking a car would be faster than a _train_?

Well, it didn't exactly help that there was traffic--

...I have a very incompetent driver.

As of now, you're fired.

_"Sir, I don't believe that you have the authority to do that."_

Note to self: When I become Fuhrer, all drivers that fail to get me somewhere in under six hours will be fired.

**8:31 P.M.**

Note to self: This declaration comes right after The Miniskirt Act, and after that comes the I'm Not Lazy, Riza Hawkeye Act.

I'm so amazing.

**10:59 P.M.**

**Being driven home**

Yet another note to myself: Never attempt to talk sense into that woman Pinako.

It just doesn't work.

She does have a point--state alchemists are pretty much controlled by the military, but she didn't have to say _dogs._

I like dogs. They're loyal, and you never have to pay them.

But, I, Roy Mustang, am _not _a dog.

**11:00 P.M.**

Still not a dog.

**11:01 P.M.**

Not a dog.

**3:29 A.M.**

**At home**

Still not.


	2. Chapter 2

_Sir, I would appreciate it if you stopped writing in this "journal". Mostly because we've received reports of "suspicious activity" that all seem to concern you. - Riza_

**Tuesday**

**9:37 A.M.**

**My office**

Right. I'll stop writing in this journal when you stop brandishing your guns.

Which is never.

... And I am not a suspicious person, nor am I doing anything remotely suspicious.

These people are crazy.

**9:38 A.M.**

...How did she even manage to take this journal long enough to write in it?

**9:40 A.M.**

Perhaps she's jealous of it.

Yes, that must be it!

**9:41 A.M.**

_"That's not it."_

Damn.

**10:01 A.M.**

Have just found out how suspicious people truly are.

I mean, _seriously_. I just walk down the hall, and people are muttering, and pointing at me like I'm some sort of fascinating object.

...Ok, that's a bad example.

Because I _am_ a fascinating object.

Perhaps they are jealous of all the attention that I'm giving this journal.

Yes, that has to be it.

**10:03 A.M.**

_"I think it may have something to do with the fact that you're talking to your journal while you're writing."_

I think she has some sort of super human powers.

_"Uh, sir..."_

What? I didn't say that outloud, so she shouldn't be complaining.

And now she is staring at me.

I knew I was sexy, but seriously, stop staring at me. People may get the wrong idea.

_"Uh huh."_

...I think she was serious.

_"I was."_

Something tells me that I should stop saying what I write out loud.

**12:16 P.M.**

I have just spent nearly two hours doing some very stupid paperwork that has something to do with new state alchemists. Or something. I'm not entirely sure if that's what it was actually about, as I wasn't paying enough attention to really tell.

Oh, don't give me that _look._

**12:17 P.M.**

Who are you, Riza?

I think I may be starting to hallucinate, as this journal is starting to look like Riza.

...Back to work, then.

**12:45 P.M.**

I have just noticed that this packet of papers happens to have a lot of information concerning Edward, and the fact that he tried to bring his mother back to life...yesterday, I think. Apparently he's being watched by the Military.

What would be a better way to make a child scarred for life?

**12:46 P.M.**

All this sarcasm is making me hungry. Best go get something to eat.

**3:41 P.M.**

Yes, I know I has been nearly three hours since I've written, and you missed me, oh invisible reader of this journal. It's just that right after I went to get lunch, I was trappped in a conversation for a very _very_ long time. I know Hughes means well, and all, but I'm not planning on getting marrried tomorrow, nor do I have a girlfriend at the moment.

I, Roy Mustang, am just not that kind of person.

Not that I couldn't get a date, as I _am _a colonel and I _have_ had girlfriends.

But, _seriously_, why would I want to find a girlfriend, get married, and have children that are exactly like this Edward. Seriously. A kid like that is eventually going to get himself killed.

Or shoved inside a closet.

**3:42 P.M.**

...Why am I worrying about his well being again?

**4:01 P.M.**

Probably because you can't walk two feet in this blasted establishment without hearing something about the 'incredibly talented Edward Elric'.

Why can't people talk about me that often?

**4:02 P.M.**

Ha, Riza!

And ha again!

I laugh at you and your inability to read my mind.

_"...Sir, can you stop being so immature and get back to work?"_

Never!

**4:10 P.M.**

Okay, perhaps that was a bit childish. I was just peacefully writing in this journal, humming a tune to myself, (I'm thinking that it might be a good idea for a possible theme song), and then Riza bursts in here just like _that!_ And she was like:

_"Sir stop writing in your journal!"_

And I was like:

"Never! I'm not talking out loud! They'll never catch me now!"

And then she was like:

_"...I LOVE YOU!!"_

**4:15 P.M.**

Stop staring at me like that!

**4:16 P.M.**

Fine, you win.

I exaggerated quite a bit.

She actually stormed out of my office before threatening to shoot a hole in the notebook.

Will you stop?!

**4:18 P.M.**

Though if we did get married I'd doubt we'd have a kid like that Edward Elric.

Our kid'd probably be spending too much time trying to shoot things with a toy gun and trying to get at matches.

Note to self: If I ever have a kid with Riza, make sure to lock matches away and keep guns out of reach.

...Pfft, Riza wouldn't agree to that. She'd miss her precious guns too much.

**4:19 P.M.**

_"What did you say, Sir?"_

Nothing.

Absolutely.

Nothing.

**4:20 P.M.**

Yep, absolutely nothing.


End file.
